


SinMate

by Siren_Of_Old



Series: YouTube Soulmates [1]
Category: Game Grumps, Youtube RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, M/M, ack, fuck these guys for making me fall into another fandom, pervs, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 05:17:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8433262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siren_Of_Old/pseuds/Siren_Of_Old
Summary: Just a Septiplier trash can





	1. Mark's Mortification

**Author's Note:**

> *shrugs*

When Mark Fischbach turned sixteen, he was horrified at the words that showed up on his collarbone. He was pretty sure no one wanted what was written there in tidy small cursive, curving over the bone.

“By God, the things I wanna do to that ass.”

He’d waited up late the night before his birthday to see his soulmark before he fell asleep, and when he’d felt the heat of it spreading across his collarbone, he’d rushed to his bathroom to peel his shirt off and stare in anticipation.

Those few words scrawled across his chest in sleek liquid heat, and he’d grinned with excitement. He had been looking forward to this night since his mother had explained soulmates to him when he was twelve.

Only to gasp in mortification at the sentence that spelled itself out on his body. He’d felt his face heat up and he’d slapped a hand over his collarbone.

He was going to punch his soulmate straight in the face when he met them.

 

* * *

 

 

It wasn’t that he hated his soulmate. He didn’t hate them at all.

It was just, what type of person says that to someone straight off the bat? It was worse than his friend Dan’s soulmark of _bitchasstits!_ It was mortifying to think that someone would look at his ass and have that be the first thing they thought of.

Dan and their other friend Barry had bothered him the entire day of his birthday, trying to get him to show them his mark. Eventually, he dragged them into the boys’ bathroom during school and showed them. The reactions were what had him worried, and they’d laughed way to hard to ease that worry.

So, after letting his friends see it the day of his birthday, he tried to hide it as much as he could. He used Dan’s concealer every morning in the boy’s bathroom and constantly wore higher necked shirts so strangers and acquaintances couldn’t see it.

The only good thing that seemed to come out from such a unique soulmark was that he never got a soulmate scare. His mother had told him stories about such things, how she’d met four other people who said the words scrawled across her upper right shoulder before finally meeting her corresponding statement in his father. For that, he was glad that his soulmate was a bit of a pervert.

But, sometimes late at night, he’d lay in his bed and trace a slow hand over his chest; press down on the words as if maybe, just maybe if he pushed hard enough, he could feel his soulmate’s heartbeat.

It wasn’t that he hated his soulmate. You couldn’t hate someone you were supposed to love for the rest of life, could you? He just missed them, and he was so scared that he’d never meet them.

Those were the nights that Mark would clutch his pillow to his chest and cry himself to sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

He finally met his soulmate on his twentieth birthday.

He’d gotten the chance to study abroad; an all expenses and tuition paid by his college in Los Angeles. Of course, he would hop on the chance. It had multiple things that could come from it, he reasoned when his friends asked why he was going; he could get more education, he’d get to see a different part of the world, and he could possibly meet his soulmate.

Dan spent weeks teasing him about the last reason, but he honestly didn’t care anymore. Nearly four years of being with Los Angeles and he had yet to meet his soulmate.

“That doesn’t mean you go all the way to Ireland, dude.” Dan had laughed as he laid on Mark’s dorm bed, watching Mark as he packed his suitcases. “Your soulmate speaks English, not Irish.”

“Don’t you have your own dorm room to be in?” Mark quipped, zipping his third and final suitcase. He was going to be with his host family for at least six months and he didn’t want to be lacking in anything he couldn’t buy there. Dan stretched his lanky body out, poking Mark in the chest with his foot. He swatted Dan’s foot away, glaring down at the thin man.

“Barry had to study and I didn’t wanna bother him,” he reasoned, leaning back on his elbows.

“So you thought you’d come bother me?”

“Naturally.”

Mark sighed as he crossed his arms across his chest, looking around him empty dorm room. He looked back at Dan. “At least help me get all of this down to the cab.”

 

* * *

 

 

Two plane switches and nearly thirteen hours later, Mark landed in Athlone, Ireland with a relieved, tired smile. He clutched his carry on to him as he moved through the thick crowd in the airport to find the luggage claim. Upon finding it, he waited there for some time, until all three of his suitcases turned up and he was all in one piece. Taking a deep breath, he bent over to pick up his suitcases when-

“By God, the things I wanna do to that ass.”

He froze in place, before jerking into a standing position to find a small man behind him, hair dyed a bright green. The man froze too, before he started to apologize profusely.

“I’m so sorry mate! It’s just, god damn. Do you know what you’ve got there? That is the tightest thing I’ve ever seen in m-”

Mark pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to contain himself. His soulmate- his _Irish soulmate_ \- stood in front of him, panicking about those chosen words and he couldn’t help himself.

“Please find Jesus,” he blurted to the smaller man, letting go of his nose to stare down at him. He quickly facepalmed, groaning at his choice of words. That must’ve been a terrible soulmark to deal with. The noise stopped and he glanced back up to see the Irishman staring at him in surprise, his mouth open wide. Mark grinned a bit, and the man seemed to shake within his own frame before darting forward to cling to Mark’s torso. Relief poured through Mark and he took a deep inhale to calm himself.

“I can’t believe I’m finally meetin’ you.” The man exhaled shakily, his breath warm over Mark’s collarbone. Mark let go of his carry on, letting it fall to the ground to envelope the man in his arms.

“Neither can I,” Mark murmured, before pulling back to smack him on the arm. “Who the fuck says that to someone they don’t even know?”

The man yelped and dodged another slap, his face going from one of confusion to one of glee, laughing the whole while. “Oh yeah? Well, who tells their soulmate to find Jesus. I know him well, thank you very much.”

“I’m sure you do, you little pervert.” Mark chuckled, watching his soulmate grin back at him. “My name’s Mark.”

“Sean,” the man said, sticking his hand out. Mark took it and shook it, feeling the warm callouses on his fingers. “But, most of my friends call me Jack.”

They stood there for a few seconds, staring at each other before Jack coughed, his face burning red. “So, why are you here? Just visiting?”

“Actually, I’m studying abroad,” Mark smiled, gesturing to his suitcases. “My host was supposed to meet me here, but I’m not sure where to look.”

Jack paused for a second, before hastily rummaging in his jeans pockets. With a triumphant hoot, he pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, before staring back at Mark, grin wide and mischievous.

“What?” Mark asked, his voice wary. Jack laughed.

“Welcome to Ireland, Mr. Fischbach. I’ll be your host for the next six months.”


	2. Jack's Salvation

When Sean “Jack” McLoughlin turned sixteen, he was really confused at the words that scrawled their way across the muscle of his bicep.

“Please find Jesus.”

He’d been up all night, waiting for the tingly burn that indicated that your soulmark was coming in. When he felt it start to itch up the length of his bicep, he pulled his shirt off over his head and watched the words show up in wide messy handwriting.

“Who the fock says that?” He asked himself in the dark of his bedroom, the only light being his tiny bedside lamp. He brushed a thumb over the skin of his bicep, feeling the heat beneath it.

He’d heard of worst soulmarks, he figured as he laid back down in his bed. His internet friend Felix had a sentence of Italian printed on his forearm in clear sharp writing, basically telling him that if he didn’t shut up, his soulmate would rip his balls off.  His other friend Ross had a vague question scrawled out on his ribs about Pokemon. So he didn’t have the worst tattoo ever.

He just had the one that was most likely going to make him want to punch his soulmate dead in the throat.

 

* * *

 

 

By the time he was eighteen, there had been no chance encounters. No accidental bumps in the grocery store. No meeting in the street that changed his life around. By the time he was eighteen- only two years later- Jack had yet to meet his soulmate.

And he was fed up.

Jack wasn’t the most patient of men. He was Irish, for God’s sake. If he was meant to have patience, he would’ve been born in like India as a monk or something.

Instead he was a bitter man who was sick of all the soulmate scares he kept getting.

There had been no hiding his nature, especially after his soulmark had come in. Jack McLoughlin was a very perverted and dark humored man. It was why he got along so well with Felix and Ross. They were horrible, just like him.

So, naturally he got multiple comments about his behavior.

“Have some tact.”

“Behave yourself.”

“Find Jesus.”

Sometimes, it didn’t even have to be the actual phrase written across his arm. Sometimes, it could be a variation of it. A minor difference that was just enough to push him over the edge into surprise.

On days like those, he constantly found himself going home to lie in his bed, curling an arm around himself as he traces the words on his skin, tears dripping off of his nose and chin.

 

* * *

 

 

He met his soulmate when he was nineteen.

All the impatience had just built up and eventually, he found himself moving out of his childhood home to live with Ross in Athlone. He had to meet them soon, and moving around was the only logical thing that stuck in his brain. If his soulmate wasn’t coming to him, then he was going to make damn sure that he could somehow come to his soulmate.

Which led him to house college students studying abroad in Ireland. At first, Ross was a little annoyed by it, but after Jack explained his way of thinking, he softened at the idea. He even seemed to become eager about it, whenever a new student would show up.

But, after finding out that they weren’t either of their soulmates, the two always took to one of their rooms together, curling up and watching horrible romantic comedies and talking about what they wanted to do when they finally met them.

 

* * *

 

 

“What’s the new guy’s name?” Ross asked that morning, yawning as he grabbed a Monster out of their fridge. Jack glanced down at the piece of paper he’d just written on before shoving it into his pocket.

“Mark Fischbach.” He told him, mispronouncing it horribly. Ross laughed behind the lip of the can in his hand. “Oh, shaddup. Americans have weird ass names.”

Ross raised his can as though he were toasting the younger man. “Here, here.”

With a roll of his eyes, Jack grabbed his keys out of the bowl in the kitchen, making his way to the front door. “Get the romantic comedies ready, Ross.”

 

* * *

 

 

Jack had to wait for a while, trying to figure just how he was supposed to find the exchange student in the mess that was the airport. He stood on his tiptoes, glancing around. Finally, he just gave up and made his way to baggage claim, assuming that he might find them over there.

He made his way through the crowd, feeling small with all the people around him. When he finally broke free of the crowd to the sparse space around the baggage claim, he let out a sigh of relief.

To choke on it.

There, in front of him, was quite possibly the finest ass he’d ever seen in all of his nineteen years on the planet. It was large, and looked firm enough to bounce a penny off.

“By God, the things I wanna do to that ass,” he breathed out before his brain could reconnect to his mouth. He sucked in a giant breath as the person froze before jerking up to look at him. He froze too, staring up at the tall, broad man in front of him. His face was so handsome; Jack was actually jealous.

“I’m so sorry mate! It’s just, god damn. Do you know what you’ve got there? That is the tightest thing I’ve ever seen in m-”

The man pinched the bridge of his nose, his expression one of exasperation. Jack blushed, figuring the man got this all the time. He opened his mouth to let more apologies pour out when-

“Please find Jesus.”

Jack froze, staring at the man in surprise, his jaw hanging open. This man couldn’t possibly be his soulmate, could he? The sheepish grin he got from him in answer was enough answer that he was indeed, his horrible soulmate. Jack felt himself shake before he darted forward to hold the man around the waist, tears pricking the backs of his eyes.

“I can’t believe I’m finally meetin’ you.” He exhaled shakily against the man’s tee shirt. A thud was all the warning he got before warm arms enveloped him.

“Neither can I,” he heard him murmur, before he felt him pull back and smack Jack on the arm. “Who the fuck says that to someone they don’t even know?”

Jack yelped in surprise, dodging another slap. What did he mea- oooh. Oh, good God. He let out a loud laugh. “Oh yeah? Well, who tells their soulmate to find Jesus? I know him well, thank you very much.”

“I’m sure you do, you little pervert.” His soulmate- oh god, his _soulmate_ \- chuckled, watching him. He grinned back, feeling so giddy. “My name’s Mark.”

“Sean,” Jack said, sticking his hand out to greet him. A warm hand wrapped around his and he felt his knees shake a little. “But, most of my friends call me Jack.”

They stood there for a few seconds, before Jack began to feel awkward. He felt his face flush and he coughed. “So, why are you here? Just visiting?”

“Actually, I’m studying abroad,” Mark smiled, gesturing back to his luggage. “My host was supposed to meet me here, but I’m not sure where to look.”

Host, Mark, studying. Oh, good Lord. Jack paused as this thought went through his head, before rummaging around in his pockets. Finding the piece of paper, he let out a triumphant hoot before grinning back at Mark. Ross wasn’t going to fucking believe this.

“What?” Mark asked him, his tone wary. Jack just laughed in return.

“Welcome to Ireland, Mr. Fischbach. I’ll be your host for the next six months.”


	3. Ross's Family

“You’re sure about this?” Ross asked Jack as he sat, hunched over his laptop on the kitchen table. “You’ve only been dating the guy for a year and a half, and you’re willing to leave Ireland to be with him?”

“Yes,” Jack said, pulling up one way ticket prices. Ross leaned back against the wall, his throat tight. His best friend was leaving him. He’d finally found his soulmate and he didn’t need Ross in his life anymore. He was leaving.

Ross jerked away from the wall, ready to leave the room when a gentle hand wrapped around his wrist. He glanced back at Jack, eyes stinging. The green haired man smiled softly before tugging him towards him and the table.

“Sit down Ross. I’m not paying for your ticket too, you jackass.”

 

* * *

 

Four months later, Ross stood in the living room of their home, barren except for the peeling wallpaper and carpet. Jack had offered to bring him with him to the United States, and while he was excited about the next step in his journey of life, he knew that he’d miss this place.

“Ross, are you ready to go?” Jack asked as he came down the stairs, carry on in hand. They’d decided they’d only need one thing to carry with them, since they were shipping everything else to their new apartment in Los Angeles. Ross tightened his grip on his laptop case, the only carry on he’d really need. Jack’s face scrunched up with worry at his friend, stepping forward. “Are you alright?”

“I’m just gonna miss it here, is all.” Ross said in a small voice, before coughing into his hand. Jack smiled, stepping forward to clap a hand over his shoulder.

“So will I,” Jack glanced around and relived each moment slowly. “So will I.”

 

* * *

 

Nearly half a day later, they landed in a different country, in a whole new state, in a whole new culture. Mark found them easily, kissing Jack on the cheek and clapping Ross on the back. He grinned at the two of them.

“So, all of your stuff is at your place,” Mark said as they made their way to the car, his hand clasped in Jack’s. “My friends Danny and Barry helped me get all of it up there before they left for New York City.”

“Will we get to meet them?” Jack asked, smiling when Mark held the door open for him. Mark shrugged as he got in, Ross hopping into the back seat.

“Barry loves that city. There’s no telling how long they’ll stay there.”

* * *

 

 

The apartment was much more beautiful in real life, Ross decided. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, a spacious kitchen and living room. This apartment looked better than anything Ross had ever lived in before. Once they moved in and got rid of the old boxes, Ross was sure he was going to be comfortable living here.

Jack clapped him on the shoulder as he stood beside him, grinning. “We’ll make it look like home.”

Ross grinned back. “Thank you, Jack.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comment and Kudos as you please


End file.
